


My Best Friend Brian Kinney

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-16
Updated: 2003-11-16
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian and Michael are at the loft, talking and drinking. In his drunken state Brian reveals things Michael has a hard time wrapping his mind around.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

“Tell me what love is.”

 

“Huh?” Okay, I admit, it’s not the most intelligent reply, but can you blame me? I almost dropped the bottle, which was in my hand, when I heard the words…coming out of Brian Kinney’s mouth of all people. Sure he was on his way to becoming seriously drunk, but still. 

 

He took another sip from his glass, then proceeded to stare into it. “You say you’re in love with Ben. So you have to know what it is.”

 

Logical, of course. But how the fuck do you answer a question like that? “Well…” I licked my lips, cursing Ben for going to that damn conference in Boston, which was the reason I was sitting here in Brian’s loft instead of getting fucked thoroughly by my very private hunk, and tried to find a good answer. If Ben were here he would have one. He has answers for everything. Damn the man. 

 

“Very vocal, Mikey,” Brian scoffed, giving me a look that said it all. He sighed, then got up a little unsteadily and refilled his glass with another generous shot of Jim Beam. 

 

“You shouldn’t drink so much,” I told him automatically. I’ve been his friend for so long, I don’t need to think to say such things. 

 

“Concerned for my health?” He looked at me with a raised eyebrow and a sarcastic smirk. “You should keep that energy for Ben. He’s going to need it.”

 

I shouldn’t have been surprised, I know. After more than seventeen years, I know Brian Kinney at least as well as myself, but it still hurt. “You’re such an asshole,” I hissed, and placed the bottle on the table, attempting to get up.

 

In an impressive burst of speed for someone as drunk as Brian, he was back, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Stay,” he said softly, and for a moment our eyes met. His were dark and he was trying to tell me with them what he couldn’t say, wouldn’t say. That he was sorry for behaving the way he did. And of course, I couldn’t stay angry. I never could. But I can live with it now, and that’s a lot. 

 

“Okay,” I replied in a voice matching his. “But can you lay off Ben and our relationship?”

 

“Deal,” he nodded, sitting down beside me. “Now tell me.”

 

I tilted my head, pretending not to understand, “Tell you what?” 

 

He sighed, chuckled slightly and emptied half of his glass with one large gulp. Grimacing a little at the liquor burning down his throat, he rubbed his neck. “Don’t play dumb, Mikey. I want to hear your version of love. You’re feeling it you say. So tell me. Explain.”

 

“You’re serious?” Of course he was serious. I’d known him too long not to see the signs. Still, I tried to find a way to avoid the whole subject. How do you explain love anyway? And to a cynic like Brian who believes in fucking and not love. I’ve heard the litany time and again. 

 

And, why now?

 

No, I’m not dense. Of course I knew why. I just preferred to ignore it. It was bad enough that I had to see Justin twice a week to discuss the next edition of “Rage”. I didn’t particularly care to think about the little cheating shit at other occasions. He had it all, he had Brian, and he gave it away. And for what? Ethan Gold. If that isn’t pathetic, I don’t know what is.

 

“Stop it.”

 

Brian’s voice tore me away from my inner musings and I looked at him. “What?”

 

“Stop mentally bashing Justin for what you think he did to me.”

 

“What *I* think he -,” I broke off, too enraged by his words to be able to continue. “The little shit cheated on you. That’s a fact, Brian.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” he made a dismissive gesture with his hand, and his voice sounded bored. “So he cheated on me. It’s over and done with, and it’s none of your business.” Suddenly his eyes sharpened, and I felt like a bug under a microscope. “Are you giving him shit because of that?”

 

I squirmed under his scrutinizing gaze, not sure what to say. “We’re avoiding the subject,” I told him finally. And it’s the truth. We never talk about Brian when we work on “Rage”. It’s best for everyone around. Or there might be mayhem. And torture. And I don’t look forward to spending years of what’s left of my life in jail. 

 

Brian was still studying my face with sharp eyes, then he nodded, “Keep it that way. I don’t want you tearing into him. Whatever happened between us, is our problem, not yours.”

 

I certainly disagree here, but I wisely kept that comment to myself. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss Justin’s guilt right now, and I didn’t want to start a fight over it. The little twink wasn’t worth it, anyway. 

 

“Okay. Fine.” I grabbed the bottle from the table, and took a gulp, then put it back down.

 

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

 

Of course Brian hadn’t forgotten about that one. Shit. “I don’t know how to explain it,” I told him. “It’s just a feeling. In here.” I flatten my palm over his heart. Underneath I could feel it beating steadily, warm and alive. And for a moment I lost myself in it, but only for a moment, before I drew back. “It’s when you want to be with one special person . When you’re ready to commit yourself, when the person’s happiness is more important than your own.” I paused, looking at his profile, “You know what love is, Brian. You feel it too.”

 

He snorted at that, then laughed drunkenly. “That’s bullshit, Mikey. I don’t even know what love is. How am I supposed to feel it if I don’t know it?”

 

“That is bullshit,” I replied. “Total bullshit.” He looked up, his brows slightly raised, and I went on. “You love Gus. And Linds. And Mom. And,” I stopped, gulped, “me.” I needed another pause to add, “And Justin. You show it all the time. You just have a problem saying it.” 

 

“I left Gus with Justin so I could go to the leather ball,” he pointed out. 

 

“Yeah. Sure. But that was almost two years ago. A lot has happened since then.” Justin happened, as much as I hate to admit it. And with him, something happened to Brian. Something I never thought possible. And maybe that’s the real reason I’m so angry with the little twat. He made Brian love him, made him open up, change his ways, only to throw him away when he found something easier. Brian might not hold any grudges – even though I’m not so sure about that – but I do. And Brian’s not going to convince me otherwise. Not for a long time – maybe never.

 

“You gave up your parental rights because you wanted Mel and Linds to be happy,” I reminded him.

 

He laughed at that. Laughed. But it wasn’t a happy sound, and it ended on another snort. “I did it to piss off that French asshole. Nothing else.”

 

“If you want to believe that shit,” I tossed back, “go ahead. But I know better. I know you too long to not know better. I thought Justin did too, seems I was wrong.”

 

He shook his head slightly, “Why does this always have to come back to Justin?”

 

“Because,” I replied. It wasn’t really an explanation. But it was good enough for me. “You did ask me about love. Why? Because you’re suddenly so interested in it ? I don’t think so.” I looked at him squarely – well, as squarely as you can look at someone who’s got almost a bottle of whiskey inside of him. “You miss him.”

 

Another snort. Not a very convincing one. “Miss him?” He laughed. Not happily. “What should I miss.” He made a gesture indicating the loft. “That none of his shit is lying around anymore? Or that nobody is pissing me off because I don’t fuck the right people?” 

 

Meaning that he was fucking around. Justin might have made up some stupid rules, but a blind man could see that he wasn’t comfortable with Brian fucking everybody left and right. Okay, I have to be fair. Brian wasn’t really that bad. In all honesty I have to admit that he had toned down his fucking a lot since Justin was living with him permanently, since they’d officially become some kind of twisted couple. N ot that Brian would ever admit it, but you know what I’m talking about. 

 

“I think you miss him because you love him,” I told him directly, knowing full well he would get pissed. 

 

And of course that was exactly what happened. “God, Mikey. You and your looooove,” he sing-songed. “Do you have any idea how pathetic that sounds. Why does everything have to do with love? Justin and I liked to fuck. Period.”

 

Yeah. Sure. And maybe you should try to make yourself believe this shit, because, my friend, nobody else does. But of course, I didn’t tell him that. Not that it really mattered. He wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning anyway. He was far too drunk by now. “So you don’t mind him being with Ethan now?”

 

“He isn’t staying with Ethan. He lives with your mom. And he and Ethan don’t see each other all the time.”

 

So he was keeping an eye on the boy? It didn’t surprise me in the least. In fact, I wouldn’t have expected anything else from Mr. ‘I’m-responsible-for-everything’ Kinney. “But he still does see the fiddler,” I reminded him. “And I don’t think they’re relationship is platonic all of a sudden. The last time I saw them they were locking lips with the best of them.”

 

He didn’t say anything to that, but averted his face for a moment. When he finally turned back to me, his eyes were looking surprisingly sober, and there was a twist around his mouth that looked a lot like pain. It was gone after a second, but his eyes were still clear, still boring into me, making me squirm. 

 

“What?”

 

He shook his head ever so slightly. Then he chuckled, “And you call me an asshole. You’ve got nothing on me, Mikey. But I suppose that happens if you’re around someone like me all the time. We can all be glad Justin managed to get off the train as long as there was still time.”

 

Huh? What the hell was he talking about now? 

 

He suddenly got up and walked towards the door, swaying only a little. “I think it’s time for you to leave now,” he told me, not looking at me. “I’m tired. I’ve gotta be at work at eight sharp tomorrow morning.”

 

Sighing inwardly I looked at his back. I knew him more than sixteen years, and the guy was still an enigma to me. But maybe he was right, it was late after all, and we could all do with some sleep. “Okay,” I got up, too and followed him. “See you.” 

 

“Yeah,” he replied, and I felt a slight shove, then the door shut behind me. Only a second later I heard glass shatter inside, and was about to go and look when his voice stopped me.

 

“Go home, Mikey. Go home.”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Another laugh, then a snort. “Yeah, sure.”

 

He wasn’t, but I knew there was nothing I could do. Or maybe there was one thing. “Brian?”

 

“Yeah.” I could barely hear his voice through the closed door. It was very soft, and a little hoarse.

 

“Love is what makes you throw glasses in frustration.” 

 

For a few minutes nothing happened, and I was about to leave when his voice came again.

 

“I do miss him, Mikey.”

 

I could picture him standing on the other side of the door, forehead leaning against the cool metal, and I felt my heart break for him a little. Flattening my palm over the same spot on my side, I had to take a deep breath before I could say anything. I didn’t trust my voice at first. “I know, Brian.”

 

“It’s lonely in the bed without him. He wasn’t using a lot of space, but I … I kind of got used to him being there, you know.”

 

Oh God. 

 

I swallowed hard. “I’m sure he’s missing you, too.”

 

He snorted. Or was it maybe a sob? I couldn’t say. “You said he was fucking Ethan now.”

 

Shit! I would have to work on checking my words next time. “Mom says he’s staying home most nights. So I don’t think there’s a lot going on.”

 

Again silence. Then, “Thanks for coming over, Mikey. It’s … not really nice staying on my own all the time.”

 

“I know, Brian.” God, that sounded so … inadequate. But I didn’t really know what to say. “Maybe you should sleep now.”

 

“Yeah,” he replied, “Good night, Mikey.”

 

“Good night, Brian,” I said quietly, then turned from the door, and walked quietly down the stairs. 

 

The cool air was welcoming me when I stepped out of the building. Looking up, I saw the lights in his loft were still on. Would probably stay that way for another hour or two. Shaking off the blues, I walked to the car Ben and I bought a week ago. Before getting in, I looked up again and to my surprise the lights were off now. Replaced by the ever-present bluish sheen that’s so much a part of Brian. 

 

I ran a hand through my hair, climbed into the car and started the ignition, sure I wouldn’t sleep tonight. I looked at the time. Not quite midnight. Maybe I could call Ben. Maybe he was still up. I knew he wouldn’t mind. We could have a little phone sex, and then I’d tell him about Brian’s revelation. And maybe he’d know what to do. 

 

Or maybe I could talk to Justin next time he comes to the shop. 

 

Maybe I could finally start being the friend I always claim I am. Brian certainly needs one right now.


	2. My Best Friend Brian Kinney

So here I was, a couple of days after having spent an evening at the loft, sitting at the Comic Book store, or rather in the back room, trying to concentrate on “Rage” when the comic was the last thing on my mind. I still couldn’t get the conversation with Brian out of my head, something he’d obviously done without any problem. He’d been the same as always the next day during lunch, insulting Ted, ignoring Emmett, teasing me. 

 

Maybe he really didn’t remember. Given the amount of alcohol he consumed that night it was entirely possible. 

 

I sighed deeply. I still hadn’t decided what to do. After leaving Brian at the loft I was convinced that talking to Justin was the way to go. That it would be the friend-ly thing. But now I wasn’t so sure anymore. What could I say anyway I could still hardly look at the little cheating shit without feeling the urge to rip him apart for what he’d done to my best friend. After all the effort Brian had put into the “Rage” party, Justin simply walked out on him with the fiddler. 

 

I’ve known Brian for a long time, but it hasn’t been often that I saw him more hurt. Oh, he covered it up quickly, pulled the next best guy into the back room and fucked him. But I still saw that flash, the way his eyes darkened, became bottomless for less than a second. I got a glimpse right into his soul, and what I saw wasn’t pretty. Ever since then I’ve struggled not to rip Justin a new one on sight. 

 

Now you can argue that my feelings are unreasonable, that Brian did his fair share to cause the drama to happen, and you’d be right. The problem is, I’m no objective observer, I’m Brian’s best friend, maybe the only real friend he has. And he is mine. We’ve been close for so long, have looked out for each other for years – it’s the most natural thing to do for both of us. Others, sometimes don’t understand, even look at us strangely. But frankly, I don’t care. 

 

Yes, I love Ben. I love him more than I ever thought possible, and the mere thought of him suffering or worse, it makes me feel as if I’m torn up inside. But I love Brian, too. And even though he’s hiding it pretty well most of the time, I now know the amount of pain he’s carrying inside. Unconsciously, because he was pretty drunk, he let me see his inner core, gave me a glimpse of the scared little boy living underneath the tough exterior. 

 

And I wonder. Has Justin seen it too? He must have, after all the time he’s been living with Brian. The thought makes it hard for me not to give him a good beating. How can he know what he has to, and not see that Brian loves him? Loves him desperately. 

 

Sure, Brian can be a shit sometimes, but he’s also the most loyal, most steady friend anyone can have. He’d go through fire for you, not caring if he’s burnt in the process. I know he has problems showing his feelings, but damn, he went out of his way to show Justin how much he cared. I’ve never seen him the way he was with the little twat. 

 

I was green with envy from time to time, he’s done things for Justin he never did for me. I admit, I hated the boy for it. Hated that Brian fell for him in a flash. And believe me, he did. I saw it, I was there, that night. Two beautiful men, underneath a streetlight. They were so right for each other, the sparks flying. I’ve never seen more electricity in the air before. 

 

Okay, so I told Justin that Brian would never change. That he didn’t do love. And it was what I thought. 

 

You have to know a little more about Brian’s home to understand the way he is. I didn’t have real insight, but I still saw enough to know that love wasn’t part of the Kinney vocabulary. Men in general, if they don’t have the luck to grow up as a son of Debbie Novotny, or Jennifer Taylor for that matter, are raised to be tough, to not show their feelings. Showing them is a weakness, makes you a pussy, or worse, a queer. 

 

So you learn early to hide behind a mask, to never let your inner core show, never let anyone get close enough to hurt you. Our fathers are raised that way, and they do the same with their sons. Only strong women, strong mothers can balance it. They are the influence that makes us able to successfully have a relationship. I was lucky. My father – whoever he is – was dead, or gone. Brian didn’t have that luck.

 

Jack Kinney on the other hand was a man who never said a nice word in his life, at least not that I know of. And instead of balancing his harshness – and I’m not even touching the fact that Brian was black and blue at times – Joanie pulled into her own shell, escaping to her own world, her belief, her church, and let her children grow up in loveless surroundings. We don’t need a psychology handbook to know what lack of love can do to children. We only need to look at Brian. He’s the shining result of Jack and Joan Kinney’s failure as parents. 

 

Given all this, it’s actually a miracle that Brian turned out the way he has. I wouldn’t really have been surprised if he’d become a mass murderer instead. It only speaks of his strength of character that he managed to pull through. And maybe because I know all this I don’t really expect him to be any different. Sometimes I find myself in awe of all he’s accomplished. 

 

The doorbell announced Justin’s arrival. We had a date that night, to talk about “Rage”. We’ve been trying to find a plot for the next edition for two weeks now. So far, it’s a no go. My mind draws a blank every time I try to think of something fitting, and he isn’t any help either. Most of the time he simply stares into space, seemingly far away. 

 

I sometimes find myself watching him, the perverse hope in my chest that he’s hurting worse than Brian. That he’s missing him too. That leaving my best friend is silently killing him. 

 

“Michael? Are you in the back?”

 

My spine tensed unconsciously at the sound of his voice, and I turned slowly when I heard his quiet steps on the carpet. “Hey,” I said quietly, trying to hide my shock at his appearance. I hadn’t seen him for a while. I’ve avoided going to my mom’s house, knowing he’s living there again. And he’s working the late shifts at the diner, for the moment, because they don’t clash with his schedule at PIFA. 

 

Our last date regarding “Rage” was a week ago, and he looked okay then. Tonight, however, he looked awful. There were dark circles around his eyes, his face was pale, looked almost gaunt in the lamplight. 

 

With a groan he dropped his backpack and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I’m late, I know. But I had to finish this drawing first. It’s due tomorrow.”

 

“No problem,” I replied quickly. “I had to do some bookkeeping anyway.” It was an outright lie, but somehow I had the feeling that he couldn’t deal with a lot more. I instantly pushed any thought about talking to him about Brian away, and tilted my head instead, “Had a rough week?”

 

He blew out a whoosh of air and rubbed his tired face, “Yeah. Kind of.” With a shrug of his shoulders, he seemed to shake off whatever he was carrying around, and faced me, “So, did you come up with any ideas yet?”

 

“No,” I shook my head unhappily. “I … don’t seem to have any imagination these days.”

 

Plopping down on a chair, he bit his lower lip. “I’m sorry, but nothing from me either. I’ve been busy, and …” He sighed, gnawing his lip even more. I was expecting to see blood any moment now. 

 

“How is Ethan?” I have no idea why I asked that particular question. But it was out before I could stop it. 

 

His head came up with an almost audible snap, and he eyed me warily. “Do you really want to know? Or is this some kind of trick? Because I really can’t fight with you tonight, Michael.”

 

“No,” I told him softly. All the anger that had been inside of me only a short time ago, suddenly vanished…gone at the sight of him, slumped in a chair, looking as if he hadn’t slept for days. “No fight. But since we can’t seem to come up with any ideas, I thought I’d opt for a little conversation.”

 

A heavy sigh was my response, and he looked around. “Do you have anything to drink?”

 

“Sure,” I nodded towards the table behind him, where I had a bottle of coke, and a few cans of beer. “Help yourself.”

 

He gave me a grateful look, got up and returned with the coke. “I need the caffeine tonight,” he explained, a fleeting smile flickering over his lips. 

 

“So,” I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “How is Ethan?”

 

He shrugged, “Good. I think.”

 

Instantly my ears perked up. “You…think?”

 

“I haven’t seen him the whole week.” He took several gulps from his drink, and finally looked at me. “If you want to know, we decided not to see each other anymore.”

 

What? There was already trouble in paradise? 

 

Keeping a nasty reply to myself at the very last moment, I frowned. “So it’s over?”

 

He shrugged again, “Probably. Not that I ever thought it would be something big. Ethan was nice. But I …,” his voice drops a notch, barely above a whisper, “never loved him.”

 

And guilt never is a good start for a relationship. That thought popped into my mind like a lightening flash. “Still hung up on Brian, huh?”

 

Something akin to anger flashed through his eyes, but then a yawn wiped the expression away. “I’m not you, Michael,” he said finally. 

 

Yup. That was a low blow. But I took it and kept myself from shooting back with something equally painful. Maybe because I’ve finally accepted that I was hanging on Brian’s heels for far too long. I needed to find Ben, and love, to see it and let it go. At least, I hope I did. 

 

“No, you’re not,” I said slowly, and noticed that he was watching me as if he was waiting for that returning blow. But I didn’t intend to deliver it. Instead I sighed a little and gave him a smile. “For one, he never slept with me. You were right when you told me I was still waiting for him to finish the hand job he’d started more than sixteen years ago. I was so jealous of you, of the way he was around you. Without even consciously trying you got everything I’d wanted for so long. It hurt. It hurt so bad.” 

 

He studied my face for a long moment, before he nodded. “I knew you were jealous. But you’re wrong. Brian never did anything special for me.” There’s a defeated timbre in his voice that makes me hurt for him. 

 

But there’s also anger, that a person can be so stupid. And the anger won. “What? Are you fucking blind? The guy would do everything for you. He’s so in love with you he doesn’t know his up from his down!” I shook my head, and had to grin at the shocked expression in his eyes. “Justin….Brian’s not a sharing guy. He doesn’t go around announcing his feelings.”

 

He snorted at that. “No kidding.” 

 

I didn’t let him throw me off my path, instead I simply continued telling him what I should’ve told him a long time ago. “Brian didn’t have the luck to grow up with parents who showed him how to love, how to make his feelings visible. But he’s … done so many things for you. The rules for example.”

 

Justin winced at that, but I ignored it, and went right on, “He followed them religiously. You have no idea how many guys told the story that Brian Kinney wouldn’t kiss anymore. Did you know that he cut back on tricks so much, I sometimes wondered if he was still having any?”

 

Justin snorted again. It was a sound full of disbelief. “Why are you telling me that, Michael?”

 

“Why, indeed?” I studied my fingers for a moment, noticing absentmindedly that my nails could do with a cut, then gazed at him again. “I honestly don’t know. I was with Brian a few days ago. He was drunk. But what do they say … the drunk tells the truth?” 

 

“And he confessed his undying love for me?” Justin shook his head, “Please, Michael. I’m not completely daft.”

 

“No, he didn’t confess his love. But he was miserable. And he … he said he was missing you.”

 

At that Justin rolled his eyes, “Yeah, he’s missing the convenient fuck lying beside him.”

 

“Never thought you could be such a cynic.” 

 

“That’s what living with Brian does to you,” he replied without a blink. 

 

“Justin, do you really believe that you were nothing but a convenient fuck for Brian?” Was he really that blind? 

 

He shrugged, “What else could I think? Brian never – ever – talks about his feelings. Even when he…” He paused for a moment, took a sip from his drink,. “Do you remember when I found him fucking a trick on the couch?” I nodded and he went on, “We made a deal afterwards. The famous rules. But that’s not really important. He came to me and said he wanted me to stay, and that he was coming home to me.” 

 

I was about to tell him ‘there, you see’, when his raised hand stopped me. “Sounds all great. But he also said that he wouldn’t stop fucking around. I was a fool to agree to this. I should’ve known better. But I was desperate. I wanted to be with him. I … I thought with time…”

 

“He would change his ways?” I shook my head, amazed how much of a child Justin still was. But then, he was nineteen. What did I expect? “But don’t you see? He has already. Brian’s lived with his own rules for a long time, Justin. If you ask me, it’s a miracle what you’ve achieved in such a short period.”

 

“Come on.” He laughed a little. “You were the guy who told me that he was never gonna change.”

 

“And I was wrong. He changed. So much, I could barely trust my eyes.”

 

“Next thing, you’re gonna tell me he loves me truly, madly, deeply.” Another disbelieving snort accompanied the comment, and I really wanted to slap him over his stubborn head.

 

But I didn’t, and instead simply glared, and sighed loudly. “Yes. He does. He just doesn’t know how to say it.”

 

“Well, Michael,” Justin shoved the bottle away, reached for his backpack and stood. “It was really nice talking to you-“

 

That did it. “So you’re just gonna let him get away?” I snapped.

 

He looked at me steadily, shrugging into his jacket, “I’m not you, Michael. I’m not gonna run after him my whole life, hoping he might finally wake up. If he wants me, he has to come to me.”

 

“You left.” I thought it might be wise to point it out.

 

“Sure. I did. But he did nothing to hold me back. Instead he sent me a message, and when I went in the back room, he was fucking Rage.”

 

Exasperated, I threw up my hands, “Have you listened to anything I said? That’s just the way Brian is.”

 

A strange smile played around his lips, “And I’m not putting up with it. As I said before. I’m not you. I’m not going to swallow everything he throws at me. I’m either going to be his partner, an equal, or nothing. I’m done with playing the adoring fuck. I’m not a kid anymore.”

 

I know that should’ve made me angry. The problem was, he was telling the truth. He had described me dead on. It wasn’t pretty, hearing it. But it didn’t make it less true. I also realized that he was a lot more grown up than I’d given him credit for. Still, I couldn’t help adding a few things. “So you’re giving him up,” I snapped my fingers, “just like that? Don’t you think he’s worth fighting for?”

 

Again the strange smile, before he shouldered his backpack and turned towards the door. “Maybe you should ask him the question?”

 

With that he was gone, leaving me stunned and a little in awe, and with the revelation that maybe, just maybe, Justin just wasn’t the right guy for Brian, but that my best friend might have finally found his true match.


	3. My Best Friend Brian Kinney

It was Saturday, six weeks after Justin and I had our little talk about Brian. I stood at the bar in Babylon, beer in hand, my lover’s arm around my shoulder, the club pulsating with life and rhythm, when suddenly my best friend materialized to my left, wearing tightly fitting black pants, a sleeveless top of the same color. It’s a favorite of mine, and even though I love Ben, I couldn’t stop my mouth from watering a little at the sight. 

 

Not bothering with a greeting, Brian took the bottle from my hand and took a draw, then handed it back to me, a smirk appearing on his face. “So, Ben. Haven’t seen you around for a while. How are things?”

 

Ben grinned back, sipping from his non-alcoholic drink. He’s on medication right now and so it’s just bubbly water for him. Poor sod. “I’m good. You don’t look bad either.” I raised a brow when I saw Ben’s eyes wander appreciatively over Brian’s length, but where I might have been jealous a while ago, I’m not anymore. I think it’s just a natural reaction to Brian’s beauty. Unconsciously, even. I’m guilty of it myself, so who am I to blame others?

 

Following Ben’s eyes, I took my first good look at my best friend, and blinked. Something was off. It wasn’t the smirk. I was used to that. Or the outfit. Nothing new there. But something was different. 

 

“Hey, look who’s honoring us with his company tonight, Teddy.” Emmett floated to us from the dance floor. There is no other word to describe the way he is moving lately. I suppose it’s all the happiness he’s experiencing with Ted. Or at least I think it is. Who would’ve believed it?

 

“Hello, Brian.” Ted looks happy too. As if he’s finally found what he’s been looking for all his life. We all hope it’ll work out, but we have our doubts. Mom says Ted only turned to Emmett in a kind of panic, and Emmett was still grieving for George. I keep my fingers crossed that she’s wrong. Unfortunately she rarely is.

 

“Ted,” Brian dipped his head, his lashes lowering a little. “The porn business still booming, is it?”

 

“I can’t complain.”

 

“He’s so busy,” Emmett informed us, “he hardly sleeps. He’s going to grow old long before his age if he goes on like this.” He gave his lover a gently disapproving look, and Ted leaned forward and kissed him. 

 

“I’d say the process has already started,” Brian commented, reaching for the drink he had ordered. 

 

He received a glare from Ted, but as always shrugged it off, his eyes already on the dance floor checking out possible tricks. Business-as-usual for Mr. Kinney. 

 

Brian and I didn’t have time to meet since Justin and I had our little talk. First Brian was bound up at the agency, then Ben had a setback and had to be hospitalized for two weeks. It wasn’t as serious as before, but it still shook me up, reminded me once again that our time will be limited. That one day he’ll be gone and I … I’ll still be there. As a result I doubled my efforts to spend more time with him, to make good use of what we’ve left. He looks healthy now, but I’ve seen twice now how fragile that can be. 

 

So Brian and I didn’t talk, and secretly I was grateful. I had no idea what to say to him. That Justin wasn’t going to wait for him? That the blond twink expected Brian to come to him, and not the other way around? I can just see how well that would sit with Brian. He’d snort and then give me the patented Kinney-glare. The one where he lowers his head, his tongue wanders into the left cheek, telling you that he’s not pleased. Thank you very much, but I really don’t need it.

 

Okay, you might call me weak, but Justin’s and Brian’s problems are really none of my business. I talked to Ben about it, and he just looked at me for a long time, before he said ‘are you really sure you should get into it’? That made me think twice. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve done my share by listening to Brian, and talking to Justin. Whatever they intend to do, or not, is strictly their problem. 

 

But my stomach still dropped when I looked up from the bar and saw Justin standing on the other side of the dance floor, scanning the crowd with narrowed eyes. 

 

“Hey, isn’t that Justin over there?”

 

And thanks so much, Ben, for pointing it out to all of us. So far Brian hadn’t even noticed the blond and I’d been secretly hoping it might stay that way. But no such luck. 

 

My gaze slowly wandered to Brian, and I saw he was looking at Justin too. He didn’t seem surprised by the other man’s presence, and I frowned, then dismissed the idea that it meant something special. After all, Brian has never been one to openly show his feelings. The few times he did, are memories I will treasure forever. Like standing on the hospital roof after Gus was born, or crying in my arms after meeting with his dad. It’s what makes us best friends, and nothing – and nobody – will ever be able to take that away. It’s actually Ben who pointed this out to me, and he made me see that no matter what happens, Brian will be my friend. 

 

“Justin!” Emmett shouted, trying to be heard over the din of noise, which of course is impossible. So in true fashion he jumped in the air with both feet, waving his arms enthusiastically. “Justin! Over here, baby.”

 

Finally the blond noticed him, and instantly made his way over. Keeping my eyes on Brian, I didn’t even notice that I had reached for Ben’s hand, when he suddenly planted a kiss behind my ear and whispered, “Hey, Brian’s a grown up man. He’s going to be fine.” A bit startled, I turned to him, but failed at my attempt to smile. He kissed me again, this time on my mouth, then let his finger trace the curve of my lips. “You’re a good friend, Michael.”

 

I shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed at the compliment, and turned my gaze back towards the action. Justin had crossed the dance floor by then, and to my surprise walked right to Brian, stopping only when he’d almost invaded the other man’s space. I felt my frown returning once again. Something was definitely odd. 

 

“Hey, baby,” Emmett greeted Justin, before leaning over and kissing the blond. “It’s so good to have you back.”

 

“Hey, Em. Ted. Ben. Michael.” He smiled at every one of us. Then his smile slipped and serious eyes locked with Brian’s. “Hi.”

 

And hazel eyes wandered up and down Justin’s body in response, taking in the beige pants, and the tight fitting white shirt. “Looking for a shag?”

 

The blond shrugged, “What else would I be looking for in here?”

 

Brian dipped his head, his lashes lowering, “Care to dance?”

 

“Sure.” No muscle moved in the younger man’s face, nor did the expression in his eyes change. It was like watching two shooters checking each other out. Or two alpha males. I remembered my thoughts at Justin’s departure a few weeks ago, about Brian finally meeting his match. It was never more obvious than this night. 

 

I watched as the two men moved towards the dance floor without touching each other, and caught Emmett frowning as well. “Ooookay. What the hell is going on here? Is there something we missed? Michael.” He narrowed his eyes at me, “Fess up. What have you been hiding from us?”

 

“N-nothing,” I replied, still trying to understand what was going on. True, Brian and I hadn’t exactly been contact-buddies these past weeks, but I was sure I would’ve at least noticed ….

 

“Oh come on, Michael,” Ted gave me a little shove. “Brian’s not going to kill you if you tell us.”

 

I wasn’t sure about that one – if I had known anything, that is. Suddenly feeling irritated at being left out, I sent my friends, and my lover, a glare. “How should I know what’s going on? Brian’s not exactly telling me all his secrets, is he? So lay off, okay?”

 

On the dance floor Justin was dancing with all the excitement of the youth while Brian was doing his usual routine, which meant not really moving at all. How he still manages to look sexy is one of the great mysteries of life. I’ve long given up trying to understand it. 

 

“They look good together,” Emmett commented. “Almost like they did … you know, before.” He quickly glanced at me, obviously not sure how I would take it. 

 

How I would take it? “What the hell does it have to do with me? Brian’s not my boyfriend. Who he shags or not, is none of my business,” I snapped, not caring that by doing so, I was only proving Emmett’s point. 

 

“Yeah, sure,” Ted frowned. “But I thought they weren’t even talking to each other.”

 

“They didn’t,” I told him, taking a deep breath. “But Brian and I haven’t exactly communicated a lot lately.” I looked pointedly at Ben and saw Ted nod. “But I’ve talked to Justin a while ago. Maybe …,” I trailed off, not quite sure what to say. Justin had all but given me the impression that he would do nothing to contact Brian. And I just couldn’t believe Brian would make the first step. It’s just not how he is. 

 

“Well,” Ben sighed, reached for his drink and sipped slowly. “They look like a couple to me.”

 

God, sometimes Ben’s voice of reason can make me so mad. “Excuse me,” I snapped. “What made you knowledge-guy all of a sudden?”

 

“Yeah,” Emmett piped up, winking at Ben. “After all, we know that Michael is the specialist on all things regarding Mr. Brian Kinney.”

 

I didn’t even bother glaring at him, and just went on, “It’s nothing special, you know. Brian dances like this with all his possible tricks.”

 

“Oh?” Emmett batted his lashes at me, “Since when was Justin upgraded to a possible trick? Last thing we discussed was that they weren’t talking at all.”

 

“Shut up,” I snapped, hating the whole discussion. It irked me to no end that I had not the slightest idea what was going on. I hate being left out, especially when it’s obvious like this.

 

“Michael,” Emmett moved to my other side and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Don’t get all uptight over this.”

 

Finally having enough of them, I shrugged off Ben’s arm and stepped away, so I was facing my friends. “I have not the slightest idea what’s going on with Brian and- What?” I realized that Emmett, Ted and Ben were looking at the dance floor, ignoring me all together. 

 

“Jesus,” Ted’s voice was a raspy whisper. “Emmett, let’s go home. Suddenly my pants feel a little tight.”

 

“How about the back room?” Emmett offered.

 

“You’re my boyfriend. I’m not going to fuck you in the back room.” Ted seemed scandalized by the mere thought.

 

“What?” I asked again, and when no answer was forthcoming, when they were all still staring as if they were under a spell, I turned around as well, and – froze. There were Brian and Justin, on the dance floor, locked in a kiss. Well, at least I thought it was a kiss. Somehow they were fused to each other. Lips, hands, bodies, the whole nine years. There wasn’t an inch of air left between then, and only because their outfits were so different, you could see where the one ended and the other began. 

 

It was Justin who broke the kiss, and even from here I could see they were staring at each other, panting heavily. And then without another word, without another look at us, their hands entwined, they left the club.

 

***

 

It won’t surprise you to hear that I stood in front of Brian’s door first thing next morning. I hadn’t been able to sleep at all last night, and not even a great fuck from Ben, or the half bottle of booze I found shortly after two, had been able to help. 

 

So I looked bleary eyed and definitely hung over when Brian opened the door, his hair tousled, his lashes down low, and only clad in a pair of sweatpants. “Mikey?” He rubbed his eyes, before he stepped back, inviting me in without saying it. “What are you doing here?” Barefoot he walked into the kitchen, grabbed two oranges from the counter and after cutting them in halves, inserted them into the juicer. “Want some?”

 

“No,” I replied, feeling a little miffed at the fact that he hadn’t given me an explanation for last night. Of course expecting one is completely irrational, especially with Brian. He never explains himself. And if he wants to fuck Justin, he just goes and does it. No apologies, no regrets. But I thought after our heart-to-heart all those weeks ago, I was entitled to slightly more than nothing. Assuming he remembers the night at all. 

 

“Everything okay?” 

 

I found him looking at me, concern in the depth of his hazel eyes, and I could read the unasked question, feeling instantly better. If we can still communicate without words, it has to mean something, right? “No, I’m good,” I told him. “Ben is too.” I knew it was what he was really asking. 

 

“I told you not to fall in love with him,” he said, his eyes on the juicer. “But I suppose it’s too late now.”

 

“Yeah,” I confirmed. Much too late. I love Ben with all my heart. And losing him will kill me. No, not literally, but I can already see how I’m going to suffer, and I finally understand why Mom freaked the way she did when I told her about Ben’s HIV-infection.

 

He shrugged at that, and poured the juice into a glass. To my surprise he didn’t sip from it, but simply picked it up and carried it towards the bedroom. “Be right back, Mikey.”

 

I heard murmurs from behind the blinds and Brian returned only a moment later. “So, why did you come, if things with you and Ben are fine?”

 

“Do I need a reason to see my best friend?” I asked, not bothering to hide the hurt in my voice.

 

Instantly his arm came around my shoulder and a kiss landed on my hair. “No, of course not.” Then he put a finger under my chin and looked into my eyes. “You came because of last night, didn’t you?”

I felt a flush creeping up my face and quickly turned away, “No, really-“ 

 

“Oh, Mikey.” I heard him chuckle behind me, and could imagine his smug grin. “You’re so predictable. And still so pathetic.”

 

“Am not,” I protested, turning back to look at him. “Okay, so yeah, I was wondering what last night was about. Last thing I heard you and Justin were not talking. And then you’re suddenly inseparable again.”

 

His tongue wandered in his cheek, his lashes lowered, the way I had expected it, and he looked so sexy that I felt my dick twitch. Damn. I swear, I could probably be happily married for twenty years and the guy would still get me hot with one look. 

 

“Brian?” Even though I had expected it, I was still a little startled to hear Justin’s voice from behind me. Slowly turning I found the blond smiling at me, dressed the same way as Brian. “Michael, hi.”

 

“Justin.” I barely kept myself form rolling my eyes. He had that thoroughly fucked look I’ve come to know. Hair tousled – they both seem to have the same fetish – and eyes heavy. And he had the special glow, I hated that first morning, because I could only imagine what Brian had done to him. And because I realized – even then – that Justin wasn’t like all the others. He was special somehow. And I was green with jealousy. 

 

And that’s when it suddenly sunk in. Jesus Fucking Christ. Brian Kinney had made fresh juice, then walked into the bedroom to *serve* it to Justin. Now, this might not mean anything to you, but it meant everything to me. And it also meant that a lot more was going on than any of us would’ve guessed last night. 

 

“Jesus,” I muttered, my gaze darting back and forth between my best friend and his twink. No, not his twink. Not his twink, at all.

 

Something flickered through Brian’s eyes and he looked at Justin. “Can you make me a cup of coffee?”

 

The blond gave me a last glance, then with understanding in his eyes, he nodded, and walked away from us. 

 

“So,” I said when he had left. “Do I get an answer or what?”

 

“What do you want to know?” Brian asked innocently, and I could’ve murdered him. It’s just so typical. 

 

I threw up my hands, “God, you’re infuriating. What goes on between the two of you?”

 

He simply shrugged, and averted his eyes. “He stayed the night.”

 

“I can see that,” I gritted out. 

 

“We’re not a couple or anything,” he added.

 

I let my eyes flicker towards Justin who was busy starting the coffee maker, then looked back at Brian. “You look mighty couple-y to me.” 

 

His head came up and I could finally see his eyes. They were big, and holding an uncertainty that made me want to take him in my arms. Jesus, the guy is so full of contradictions. You want to murder him one moment, and kiss him the next. 

 

“I’m not sure what we are,” he admitted finally. “We haven’t talked about terms.”

 

“No rules?”

 

He laughed, “We thoroughly fucked them up the first time.”

 

The first time? Uh-oh. “Does that mean you’re back together?”

 

His tongue went in his cheek, and he said nothing. And I was back to murdering him. But I also knew that I wouldn’t get any more information. Being Brian Kinney’s friend teaches you one thing over and over. To be patient. And always to expect the unexpected. Not in my wildest dreams would I have imagined them getting back together after just a few weeks. And maybe never at all. 

 

“It’s your fault anyway,” he interrupted my thoughts.

 

I frowned, “My fault? How?” 

 

“Remember when I saw you and Ben at the hospital?”

 

I nodded. How could I forget? Brian came every day. Sat with me, until we were sure that it wasn’t anything serious this time. “Which time do you mean?”

 

He sighed. “It’s not important. But you said that Justin was through chasing me.”

 

I did? “I don’t remember.” 

 

“You had other things on your mind. But you told me that Justin wasn’t going to crawl back to my doorstep. That if I wanted him, I had to be the one to do the chasing for a change.” 

 

Would you believe me if I told you that I have no idea what he’s talking about? “I …,” I frowned again, “I said that?” 

 

He laughed, “Yeah. God, Michael. Maybe you should see a doctor. You’re only thirty-one. Memory lapses at your age can be serious.”

 

I snorted, and let my eyes wander to Justin who was still busy making coffee and did his best not to appear too interested in the conversation. “So, what happened?”

 

Brian grinned. “As it turned out, Justin came to work for our agency.”

 

“WHAT?” I couldn’t have kept my voice down if I’d wanted to. Of all the things to happen …

 

“Yeah,” his grin turned wicked. “Anyway. He had to do practical weeks. It’s part of his schedule. And after one week I had him on my desk, naked.”

 

“God, you’re impossible,” I groaned, but I also chuckled. 

 

At that Justin returned with three cups, handed one to me and one to Brian, and kissed him on the cheek. “I gave him the best fucking blowjob,” he told me with a smug grin. “He simply couldn’t resist.”

 

Brian slapped him on the ass, “Cheeky twat.”

 

Justin giggled, and plopped down on the sofa, sipping from his coffee and looking at me. “Thanks, Michael.”

 

Suddenly feeling embarrassed, I gulped down half of my cup, and promptly burned my tongue. I waved off his thanks, and put the cup down. “Okay.” I glanced at my watch, “I really should go now. Just wanted-“

 

“-to check on me. Make sure nobody was taking advantage of me.” Brian wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close and kissed me. Not just a peck. A kiss. A full-blown kiss. Complete with tongue. When we broke it off, he was grinning at me, and Justin did the same. Bugger. He’s so sure of Brian, he isn’t even slightly jealous. Little twat. I really would like to know what went on between those two during the last weeks, but I suppose I’m never going to. 

 

I stepped away from the luring warmth of Brian’s half naked body, glad my dick hadn’t betrayed me this time, and walked towards the door. From the corner of my eye I saw Brian sitting down next to Justin, their forms touching on the sofa, and I had to admit they looked right somehow. 

 

Still, I couldn’t help myself. When I opened the door, I looked back at them and grinned. “You know, Brian. This relationship fits you.” 

 

And of course he started to deny it, shouting after me, “Mikey, I’m not in a fucking r-“

 

He was interrupted by Justin’s voice, “This is ridiculous, Brian. He’s not going to believe it anyway.”

 

“But we’re not in a-“

 

“We are, too.”

 

“Are not.”

 

“You’re the only one who believes that. Try denying it. But I know the truth. You love me sooo much.”

 

“I’m so going to punish you for this.”

 

“I’m shaking in my pants already.”

 

The last thing I heard before I closed the door was Justin’s shriek and his laugh, then Brian’s best growl. 

 

I wore a smile on my face the whole way home.


End file.
